30 Cubed – The Anthropologist

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There was a time, back in the early 21st century, when the debate surrounding interstellar travel settled into roughly three camps. These were the “go now with what we have,” the “wait a few decades and the physics/technology will grow so quickly we would out run the first mission” and, well, the “do we really care?” crowd.

The last was understandable as it became increasingly clear that space was not a friendly place. The problems that would be faced by the human mind, body, and spirit were daunting. More and more people began to realize that leaving our cozy home was not going to be all that easy. Perhaps, we should take better care of that home. After decades of abuse, restoring portions of the earth to health would demand a multinational commitment of funds and energy. How could there be anything left for space travel?

There was, as there always had been, a portion of humanity that could not resist the call of the stars. Unwilling to wait on the political will, private companies began to spring up and look seriously at the requirements for getting members of this delicate race on to the surface of another galactic body; and hopefully avoid such things as stars and black holes. Some companies formed coalitions to share costs, some specialized and provided needed technology and research to those who would dare to try. Eventually, the “go now” crowd won out and a star ship took shape.

I’ve studied the history of how my ship was built. The strange political maneuverings and financial schemes intrigue and confuse me. It is a culture as foreign to me as native cultures must have been to exploders in our race’s far distant past. I have spent many hours in our ship’s library, learning about human history and the failures and successes of the meetings between cultures and species. You see, I am the ship’s anthropologist and it is my job to help maintain a healthy onboard culture and to help make the smoothest contact possible when we arrive at our destination.

I am the second generation born in transit. This is, of course, a very good sign that we have overcome most of the unknown hazards during the birthing and rearing of the first in-transit generation. We started with all that earth could offer, including our own magnetic field. But space is unforgiving. Even with artificial gravity, it is not a full “G,” whatever that should mean to us on board now. Consequently, our bodies changed. Many of the regimens demanded of our grandparents were abandoned by our parents. We know we must prepare for some change in mass, but we have yet to discover what that change will be. So I spend hours at a time searching for clues of how we might react and what systems I can put in place to make that transition easier. After all this time we really can’t opt for staying on board. The ship will not last forever and some of the systems are beginning to show their age. Including the nuclear plant that brought us here. When we arrive at our destination we will have to find a place to call home.

Home. How do we define a home we have never seen and that we are just now learning about? We are approaching the system that has been our goal for three generations. Our libraries tell us that there are some very large gas giants, a few rocky worlds that appear to be much larger than earth, and moons. The moons are our target. It amazes me that our ancestors could bet so much on the hope that a ship filled with yet-to-be-born children could find a home around a far distant star by settling on a moon that may or may not be there. Yet, here we are. As of 24:00 ship’s time we began the breaking procedure to enter the system through its Oort cloud and to begin our search.


We have experienced a large dose of astronomical luck, or maybe solar systems really aren’t all that unusual or unique. In any case we have located at least a dozen moons that represent good candidates. Chemical scans indicate that the required elements are there. The question remains whether or not something or someone is already availing themselves of these candidates. Tomorrow I go with the landing crew to check out our first option. I’m not entirely sure what I can do should we find something. I do know that the thought of being “outside” is somehow terrifying. I really must get a grip on myself.

1 Comment

Filed under My Fiction - Very Short Fiction

One response to “30 Cubed – The Anthropologist

  1. This was a good read. Style is getting better and better and I really enjoyed it. As always, the thought processes are stimulating and engaging

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